


Insight

by obvious_apostate



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: (i'm glad that's a tag), A lil i guess, Anders Needs a Hug, Ficlet, Gen, Hawke's gender not specified, Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse, Solitary Confinement, so Anders gets a hug, supportive Hawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-30 01:17:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10149827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obvious_apostate/pseuds/obvious_apostate
Summary: Hawke accepts Anders' habits without question - both before and after learning the reason behind them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little thing I wrote a few years ago, to finally start the cautious venture into ao3 posting.

Hawke never saying a thing when, on the nights there’s no fire burning in the hearth, Anders insists on having a candle lit when they go to bed at night. A tiny point of light in the darkness of her room.

Hawke choosing not to comment when a conversation dies out and Anders always, without fail, begins to tap his fingers on a tabletop at the estate, or moves to rearrange the glass bottles on a shelf in the clinic, or stokes the fire to listen to its crackling when they’re away from the city and camping under the stars. Anything to keep their surroundings from being absolutely quiet.

Hawke knowing that, on all but the hottest afternoons of Kirkwall’s muggy summers, Anders would be wearing his coat throughout the day. Sometimes one of their companions would comment, but he only ever gave a shrug and a simple reminder of the chill in Darktown. The topic was usually dropped after that. After all, Hawke was the only one who knew he would have the blankets pulled up to his chin that night even if the day’s heat remained, the aforementioned cold of Darktown far below them and hardly an inconvenience. 

Hawke accepting without issue that Anders would always be a rather physical lover and companion, but never inappropriately so. Touchy-feely, they might call it, if that didn’t sound so uncomplimentary a term. More so, it was as if he needed constant physical reminders that Hawke is there - brushing shoulders as they sit beside each other, or his arm briefly sneaking around their waist as they walk home. And always, always, his hand resting over theirs as they drift off to sleep at night.

Hawke having a moment of sudden, terrible understanding when they overhear Anders offhandedly mentioning a year of solitary confinement to Varric, during one of their many conversations of his life in Ferelden. “At least I had Mr. Wiggums for awhile.” His comment is obviously meant to distract from the severity of what he had said, and Varric carries on the conversation without missing a beat - masterful people-person that he is - but Hawke is glad to not be a part of it. The realisation is nearly overwhelming and their words fall on deaf ears as it sinks in. An entire year in the Circle’s dark, quiet, cold dungeon…and ultimately, alone.

Hawke deciding not to bring it up - knowing Anders will do it himself if he wants to - but making sure that a candle is burning in the dark, pulling the bed’s covers over them both and holding Anders a little more closely during the night, softly humming lullabies their mother used to sing to keep any silence at bay until he falls asleep.


End file.
